Sirius Black's Daughter
(A/N: Yes, I know that Ron and Hermione had prefect duties that year and wouldn't be on the train with Harry, but it's a fanfic, so just go with it. This is kinda short, but I wrote it last night at like midnight, by the light of my phone. So now I'm typing while I'm supposed to be doing my homework… Oh well, my parents are with my brother at karate class anyways. )
"I… don't really want to talk about that. It's a sensitive subject." Harry's brow furrowed, as did Hermione's.
"Your last name is a sensitive subject? Is it something to do with your parents?" Palmer sighed, shifting slightly in her seat.
"How about this: the three of you actually make conversation with me for a while, then I'll tell you if you still want to know."
"Fair enough." Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down. Ron spoke first:
"What's with the crazy outfit?" Palmer laughed, and Harry found himself liking the sound of it.
"I dress this way because I like to be different. I don't believe in following the crowd. I'm a non-conformist. Actually, to be more specific, I'm an anime-obsessed non-conformist." Ron looked confused.
"Anime is Japanese animation. Animes are usually based off of mangas, or Japanese comic books. I go to anime conventions every year. I go to Setsucon in January, Tekkoshocon in April, Animania also in April, Colossalcon in June, Tekko Half in October, and Tsubasacon in October as well." (A/N: All of which is true. I love anime conventions ) Ron nodded slowly.
"I see… that's kind of… weird." She laughed again, and Harry had to conceal his smile.
"I know. I'm a freak, but I'm damn proud of it." Harry spoke up:
"So what's your story? You don't look like a first year, but I've never seen you before." Piper smiled.
"No, I'm in fifth year, like you, I expect. My mom died when I was one, and I haven't seen my dad since then either. Although, he has written to me my whole life. I've lived with my adoptive parents and siblings most of my life. I've been homeschooled by a friend of Dumbledore's since I was eleven, but now I have to enroll in the school. My adoptive parents just died in a house fire. Their kids were sent to an orphanage and I'll be living with one of the teachers during the summer…" She had a sad, distant look on her face now. It was heart wrenching. "This is me with my adoptive family." She pulled a photograph out of her bag and handed it to Harry.
There was a large family standing there. In the back was a tired looking man and woman. Palmer was in front of them, in the very middle of all the children. There were two teenage boys, one on either side of her, with a hand on each of her shoulders. On one of the boys' sides was a teenage girl, and on the other side was a girl of about eleven. Each of the three girls (Palmer and her two sisters) had a baby girl in their arms. In front were two boys of about 7 or 8.
"Wow. Your parents had ten children?" asked Ron. Palmer nodded, looking sadly at the picture, at all the people she cared about, but would probably never see again.
"You said your dad is still alive, and he's been writing you all your life," said Harry. "Hasn't he come to see you yet?" She looked on the verge of tears now, and Harry regretted speaking. Her eyes stung and burned, threatening to overflow.
"No. He can't, it's too dangerous. You, Harry, you specifically, probably know my father better than his own daughter. His only child. I wouldn't be surprised if he loved you more, too. He always wanted a son… never a daughter…" She was really crying now, and unable to speak anymore. Years of hurt were pouring out of her, and she had no intention of stopping them.
"Palmer," Harry said. "Who is your father?" Palmer looked up, her eyes piercing him once more.
"My last name is Black."